Chapter 6 - Learning to Breathe
The weeks following the storm marked a quiet, profound shift in the Caruso estate.
True to my word, I began spending my mornings in the sunroom instead of locked inside my corporate office. I handed over a significant portion of my daily shipping operations to my trusted vice president, choosing to stay home.
At first, it was awkward and painful. I didn't know how to mix formula properly, I struggled to quiet Rosie when she was fussy, and I felt foolish trying to make funny faces to entertain them.
But Elise was always there. She guided me with endless patience, never judging my mistakes, always celebrating small victories.
"No, like this," she said one afternoon, standing close behind me as I tried to burp Maisie. She placed her warm hands over mine, adjusting my grip gently. "Support her neck firmly, but keep your wrist relaxed. Pat gently—like a heartbeat."
Her proximity sent a strange, unexpected warmth through my chest. I looked sideways at her profile—her concentrated expression, the soft glow of her skin in the sunlight, the gentle scent of lavender that always lingered around her.
I suddenly realized how close we were standing. She looked up, her brown eyes meeting mine, and for a fraction of a second, her breath caught in her throat.
A subtle, charged energy passed between us before she quickly stepped back, clearing her throat.
"See?" she said, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "Maisie burped."
Maisie let out a tiny sound and snuggled into my shirt. I smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached my eyes for the first time in months.
That evening, Mrs. Gable set the dining table for two.
"What's this?" I asked, walking into the dining room.
"Miss Navarro usually eats her dinner in the kitchen alone," Mrs. Gable said smoothly. "I thought, given how hard you two are working together, it would be appropriate for you to share a meal."
Elise walked in a few minutes later, wearing a simple green dress instead of her usual work clothes. She paused when she saw the two place settings.
"I can eat in the kitchen, Vance—"
"Sit down, Elise," I said gently, pulling out a chair for her. "Please."
She smiled softly and took a seat.
During dinner, we talked about things outside the girls' schedules. I learned that she was studying child psychology, that her dream was to open a community center for grieving children, and that she had worked three jobs to pay her way through college.
"You're remarkable," I said, setting my glass down. "Most people your age are focused on building corporate careers or traveling."
May you like
Elise looked down at her hands, a thoughtful expression on her face. "When you lose a parent early, Vance, you realize how fragile life is. You stop caring about titles and start caring about impact. I wanted to spend my life making sure no child feels alone in the dark."
I looked at her, my admiration growing into something far deeper, far more dangerous to my guarded heart.
